At twenty minutes past eight we pulled out of the WalMart parking lot for the ten minute drive to the border. We knew from last years touring of the city that we should turn left, but the GPS wanted us to turn right. Well, we did. At the end of that road, we were sure we should again turn left, but again the GPS sent us right. By the time we were almost out of town, and north bound, we realised that for some reason, our GPS didn’t want us to cross at Eagle Pass, but was sending us about 60 miles back the way we had come yesterday to the city of Del Rio!
A check with a gas station attendant and we turned around. We soon knew we were on the right track, there were signs for the border! As we crossed a bridge in town, we say a sign saying Trucks Left Lane. We moved left, the next sign said Mexican Border straight ahead. Within a couple of blocks we saw the border crossing, and a sign saying "Border Crossing. CARS ONLY". It looked a little low and narrow, so we immediately pulled off into another gas station. There was a city works truck (another one!) filling up, so Gillian went to as the driver for directions to the Truck Crossing, also known and the “second” bridge. He told us he was going that way, and to follow him.
We managed to get out of everyone’s way while we waited, and ten minutes later we were following him down the road. We soon recognised the route from last year, as he signalled us to turn left. We saw the tiny sign that said “Mexico” which we remembered from last year, and carried confidently on. Within half a block we didn’t recognise anything, and soon the border check point was on our left, a high chain link fence separating it from the road! Where was the entrance??? A few moments later we were driving under the bridge we should have been driving over, the border point on out left, the Rio Grande on our right. Within a couple of minutes we caught up to a semi truck creeping along. We pulled up beside him for help, he was lost too!!
He was following his GPS instructions! We drove past and eventually, having made almost a complete circle, came upon an un-marked exit lane that at the last minute we recognised as the entrance to the border point and the bridge. We realised that when back in town once we had crossed the bridge and moved to the left lane we should have turned left immediately, not carried on straight to the car crossing. We hadn't seen any other signs though.
We crossed the border at about nine, and on entering the Mexican side, we pulled up behind a semi trailer who was stopped in front of a chain across the road. About five minutes later an official arrived to open the padlock ....with a set of bolt cutters!
An attendant waved us around to the other side, looked at our passports, and asked where we were going, and waved us on. This was not our main stop. We knew that about 20 kilometres down the road we had to stop for immigration and to get our vehicle permits from customs, so we were not surprised at the cursory check. As we turned the corner we heard a whistle, and on looking in the side mirror, Art could see an official running after us and waving his arms.
We stopped and Gillian opened the door as he came up, quite angry with us, and telling us that we didn’t stop for the customs check. When Art told him that we had been waved on back at the building we had just passed, he got on his radio and began querying someone on the other end. “Did you pass them on?, Yes. Did you examine the vehicle? No.” Then there was a bunch of rapid Spanish that we couldn’t follow, but we could certainly understand that the unfortunate guy on the other end was in trouble! The customs official came in, asked us a few questions (the first being “does he bite?” as Trekker tried to lick him to death). A quick peek into the fridge and he was gone with a polite “Buen Viaje”. We were rolling at twenty after nine.
The road ran straight ahead, though there was a road going off from the right signed for Piedras Negras, (the border town) but it looked like the main road went straight ahead. Some kilometres later we came to a T, with no signs. After a bit of discussion we turned right, and were soon driving into Piedras Negras, and within a few blocks saw the big sign Saltillo, Left. The road that came in from the right at thet point we are sure was where we should have been coming from. Next time we’ll turn right earlier and hope it doesn’t take us through the middle of the town over hundreds of topes (speed bumps).
Our next meeting with officialdom was for our tourist cards and vehicle permits. There was almost no line up, so having ‘been there done that’ many times we knew the drill and were through easily and relatively quickly. There was one poor older lady, probably a Mexican national, trying to get the paperwork arranged for her truck and trailer which we had seen out side, piled with belongings. Near as we could tell, the vehicle was not in her name, being part of an estate she had inherited. She had letters from lawyers and notarised documents, but the clerk was having none of it. She was still patiently, explaining over again, when we left.
Outside, a Mexican came over and pointed out the lane we should take as we left. Art realised he was selling something out of a plastic pail covered by a towel. He went over to investigate and bought a couple of tacos for lunch. The man’s companion was selling cold drinks from a pail full of ice water.
We still had to run the last gauntlet–we could be inspected once again. Uniformed and armed officials waved us to a stop, checked our windshield holograms and the attendant paperwork, and unsmilingly waved us on.
Twenty past eleven, we were rolling down the road, watching the GPS with interest. It now seemed to know where we were and where we were going! We remembered from last year all the main highway construction which ran through the centre of the city of Monclova, and were hoping it would be completed. No such luck, though things were much better than last year, there were still several sections of very narrow dirt lanes and heavy traffic. We have seen a lot worse, and were soon out of the city back on the Mex 57 for Saltillo.
Shortly after two, we made a lunch stop along side the highway which was signed as a picnic area. There was a wide gravel shoulder, a shade tree and an overflowing garbage can. A nice view to the east, where in the distance we could see the traffic on Mex 53, the highway to Monterrey. 40 kilometres further down the road, as we climbed into the mountains, we came across a very pretty rest area, over looking the river, at Puente Ojo de Agua. We missed it last year too!!! We tried for a picture but we were too slow. Gillian managed to get a few pictures as we passed through the mountains.
Our GPS was marking our position, showing Saltillo getting closer and closer. We had enjoyed (mostly!) our travels through the States, but we were really looking forward to our first night in Mexico.
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